


Viceroy's New Pet

by OTL_potato, sun and sin (sun_and_solace)



Category: Final Fantasy XIV
Genre: Abduction, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Angst, Bondage, Caning? (Using something similar at least), Choking, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Deepthroating, Domestication, Drunkenness, Electrocution, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Extremely Dubious Consent, F/M, Female Warrior of Light (Final Fantasy XIV), Final Fantasy XIV: Stormblood Spoilers, Forced Oral Sex, Forced Sex, Intoxication, Kidnapping, Mind Games, Mind Manipulation, Mindbreak, Monsterfucking, Monsters, Non-Consensual Drug Use, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Pain, Penis In Vagina Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Psychological Torture, Psychological Trauma, Public Blow Jobs, Public Humiliation, Public Sex, Punching, Rape/Non-con Elements, Restraining, Rough Oral Sex, Rough Sex, Size Difference, Stepping On, Stomach Bulge, Suicidal Thoughts, Throat Bulge, Torture, Tying, Unnamed Warrior of Light (Final Fantasy XIV), Vaginal Fingering, kicking, wow that's a lot of tags
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-04
Updated: 2021-02-23
Packaged: 2021-03-06 17:01:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 5
Words: 22,658
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26292310
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OTL_potato/pseuds/OTL_potato, https://archiveofourown.org/users/sun_and_solace/pseuds/sun%20and%20sin
Summary: The Viceroy of Ala Mhigo has been given a grand gift: the Warrior of Light. His prey, his beast. While he relishes the hunt for her, he’s curious how far the grand Hero of Eorzea can be forced to bend, and if she can become a domesticated pet for him to savor for the rest of her life."Why do you want this..." she breathed out, her voice so soft, so weak, it was nigh silent. "You sick bastard..."She swallowed back a sob, blinking down the tears."I'll tell you.. what you want.. please just.. don't... don't hurt me anymore.."“Consciousness is the only thing that divides mankind from beasts, but if pushed to the breaking point they will become feral, working on those inner instincts as they throw their conscious thinking to the wind. And Irelishin bringing a person down to their most primal form.”His smile returned, small, but the pleasure behind his lips evident. He lifted his thumb from that curved hand to slide featherlight over her lower dry petal. “I am curious to see how far past the breaking point I can push you…”
Relationships: Zenos yae Galvus/Warrior of Light
Comments: 30
Kudos: 160





	1. Deny Me Again

**Author's Note:**

> If you want to scream about FFXIV fanfiction, Zenos, Emet-Selch, and anyone else, come join us at our discord server at [Emet-Selch's Wholesomely Debauched and Enabling Book Club](https://discord.gg/RHEBesD). We'd love to meet you ♥

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A prize has been delivered to the throne room. She is full of spitfire and rage. And he is filled with delight.
>
>> "Don't-" she inhaled, taking a moment to still her trembling, "don't fucking touch me."
>> 
>> Gold locks danced over her shoulder as he leaned in towards her, lips dangerously close to her ear. 
>> 
>> “I shall touch you all I want,” he whispered with both his threat, and his excitement of what was to come.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sun doesn’t like to write fight scenes, but Potato loves beating the shit out of people in prose.
> 
> Fun story- love the fact that we're AUS/EU spelling vs US XD

Boring. Every day was growing even more boring. There were Rebels attempting to overthrow his control over Gyr Abania; they were but ants ready to be squished under boot. He made an attempt to listen to his Tribunus regarding any reports, but he didn’t care. He could make the choices, he could tell them where to go, but his desire to entertain their woes and problems was so passive it was almost non existence.

In the middle of the latest report, the end of the grand hall filled with the sound of heavy boots. Each commander looked rather confused at the sudden interruption while Zenos lifted his head from his curled fist. It was abnormal for anyone to rush into the throne room. As he listened to the sounds of their feet he could identify the number- maybe a dozen or more soldiers. The Centurio appeared first while leading the group. He rushed towards them, coming at the opposite end of the lines of commanders. He was out of breath when his hand hit his chest and eyes made contact with Zenos on his throne.

“My liege! We come bearing news. With the help of several factions, we were able to capture a commanding officer of the Rebels.”

Commanding officer of a squalor of insects? Zenos’ head found its way back to his fist and interest quickly died in his eyes. At least this would provide a bone for the people to chew on to feel their success. “Pray tell, which savage have you snatched from the wild instead of executing them outright?”

The Centurio swung his arm, his voice filled with glee as his men drew in the prisoner. “The Eorzean Warrior of Light!”

Zenos’ eyes lit up and pulled himself upright. Excitement boiled in the pit of his stomach and he dug the claws of his gauntlets into the ends of his armrests. “Oh. That _is_ interesting.”

Just hearing his voice, his reaction, sent her blood boiling. Her frame tensed up the instant she heard his all too familiar tone. If her mouth had been free she was certain she'd have spat out a string of swears and insults, but alas, they'd stuffed her mouth full of rags. A wise choice on their part, she supposed, to bind, blind, and silence her while she was still knocked out asleep.

His men were not gentle, though she couldn't say she had expected them to be. The one to her left had her upper arm in his fist, fingers like iron around her skin, practically yanking her along behind him. Her arms were bound behind her back, rope cutting angrily into her wrists, and if he were to us anymore force he likely would outright pull her arm from its socket.

Tearing a yelp from her lips, the guard finally came to a stop and threw her to her knees with a sickening thud, a dull throb echoing along the length of her thighs. When the guard pulled the covering off from over her head, she blinked furiously to adjust to the light, taking a moment to finally take in her surroundings. She was in the Ala Mhigan throne room, she surmised, and right in front of her... sat... _him_.

She scowled, hissing as best she could through her makeshift gag when his eyes met hers. She could’ve sworn they were glinting.

There she was, the vaunted prey, the savage worth his time. It was... almost disappointing that she had been taken in by his own soldiers, but even a swarm of worker bees could overwhelm and defeat the hornet attempting to destroy the hive. At least they could follow directions and bring her to him alive. They would earn at least one kudos for that.

Not once did Zenos’ eyes leave hers. They remained locked, predatory, overbearing as he pulled from his throne and approached her. With all the soldiers still, the only sounds that echoed in the wide and very acoustic hall were her angry feral muted hisses and the clink of metal against metal from his shifting armor. Each step was patient as he approached her- his adversary, his quarry, and now his prize. There was no need to rush when he could drink in that sweet rage and bitter hate. He would be lying if he told anyone it wasn’t a beautiful sight.

“Even beaten and bound, you thrash like a beast,” Zenos purred with explicit delight in his voice. His cheeks pulled his lips up into a rather small, but still mocking smile with a hint of white teeth between his pale lips.

Each footfall towards her seemed louder than the last as he intentionally put more weight in each step to make the echo in the room more powerful. When he crossed through all of his soldiers to stand before her, his head bent only enough so that his eyes could remain locked on hers, but would not bend his neck to fully face her. He lorded over her as a hunter proud of their capture.

“I must say, there is something charming seeing you on your knees.”

Her reaction was nigh animalistic, limbs pulled taut in utter spite, like an elastic band being tugged and tugged, ready to give way at any moment. Her body primed itself to fight, or to flee if she must, the presence of her bindings an uncomfortable reminder of her helplessness. With a growl she shook her head, trying furiously to push out the rags in her mouth so that she could just _swear at him_.

How _dare_ he. How fucking _dare_ he.

His words played over in her head and she growled, moving to stand only for the hand of his man to press firmly upon her shoulder, fingers tightening ever so slightly over her collarbone. Weak. With an abrupt shift of her knees she stood, shuffling so that she shimmied free of the soldiers grip. Ignoring his protests and sputtered apologies to his Lord, she took a step forward, bringing herself inches from the Garlean prince's chest. Brows still knitted together, her hatred colouring ever crease of her face, she let her neck tilt back so that she could continue to scowl at him. Even like this she only reached his chest, but it was a great deal better than being on her knees before him. The last thing she wanted to be was in a position of subservience.

Tension filled the air around them like the outskirts of a storm, with only he and her in the center of a perfect calm. Well- she wasn’t calm, but she wasn’t uneasy like the other Imperials in the room who were trying their best not to reach for their weapons and put her down. They did not like how close she came, even bound, to their Legatus. And why should they fear for him? They could be brought down by such a powerful foe, but him? She’d struggle but in the end savages always came under foot.

Zenos stared her down with that same expression: prideful mockery. It could not be attributed to arrogance because he was confident in his power, he wore it much like he wore his armor.

“Some might call you suicidal,” he mentioned almost passively as he lifted a hand, yet kept it away from her face for now- much like someone patiently handling a wild animal. “To stand so firm before a royal heir, instead of kneeling where a savage would belong.”

There was another hum of delight as his cheek pulled back slightly, and for the first time he looked away from her gaze to see the gag. The movement of his hand was intentionally slow. As the gauntleted digits reached her mouth he moved those cold, vibrant blue eyes back to her own.

“Did they fear you’d bite?” was the last bit of mockery as he snagged a bit of the cloth in the sharp tips of his armoured hands and pulled it leisurely from between her teeth.

It took everything she had to not succumb to the fury roiling through her. She could feel her heart pounding furiously in her chest, her face practically twitching, the muscles in her jaw tensing as she clamped her teeth down on the string of swears that threatened to escape her lips. Now that she actually could say something... she wouldn't. He expected her to, undoubtedly; she was a savage to him after all. Of course he'd expect her to bite, or snarl, or swear... to let go of her spiteful tongue. But she wouldn't give him that satisfaction.

Letting her eyes slip closed for the briefest of moments, she let out a slow exhale, pressing down upon the fury in her chest and willing it to still so that she wouldn't begin trembling in her anger. She knew he would mock her if she did lose herself to her spite, and she refused to give him even an ilm. Being here, being bound before him, and having just moments ago been pushed to her knees before him... that was more than enough for her.

“Oh…” the Legatus murmured as if he was a bit surprised by her lack of noise.

The cloth was discarded off to the side without a single thought as he was completely focused on her, and her alone. He wanted to stare her down and see if she’d crack under the pressure or continue to hold her own even when all the odds were against her.

Exhilaration zipped through his form from behind his through every limb in his body. How much pressure would be needed to douse that fire, how much would her body handle before succumbing to base instincts to be free of pain? He’d domesticated savages before, the Warrior of Light would be no different.

“I don’t think I like this,” the smile vanished in his statement and was replaced with a muted, almost empty look. The gauntleted hand returned and cupped the side of her face, icy metal against warm, dirtied flesh. The flat edge of the thumb stroked over the apple, bringing the tip a little uncomfortably close to her eye. “Restrained, almost _docile_. No, I do not wish you like that. Not yet.”

He turned his head to one of the Imperials, which sent the man leaping at the sudden attention on him. The soldier pulled his hand firmly to his chest in reply while Zenos scanned the weapons available on him. There was a dagger strapped to his side- that would work.

“Cut her bonds.” The command was firm, but not intentionally intimidating.

It still had the effect on the soldier who gazed uneasy through his mask. “My… my lord?”

“If I must repeat myself then you best flee now.” The second statement was thrown casually, but the underlying threat hung in the air.

The Imperial lept into action as he drew the dagger from its sheath and came behind her. His hands were trembling as he sliced through the rough tangle of ropes used to restrain her. Everyone but Zenos found themselves taking a step back.

Imperials around the duo reached for their weapons, their tension and their fear of this woman growing greater seeing her free. They moved to their sharp blades between them and the Warrior of Light, but a wave of their leader’s hand to the side stilled them all. They shook uneasy to the events, but still in the eye of their anxious storm the Viceroy stood calm.

“Much better,” Zenos hummed with something like joy returning to his voice.

For a brief moment she stood still, her eyes still fixed firmly upon his face as she brought her arms down by her sides, hands balling into fists. Her entire face practically quivered in her fury, eyes glowing like embers with hot rage. And then in one swift movement, so fast that if one blinked they would have missed it, she moved, bringing her arm in front of her face and swatting his arm away with the back of her hand. With a quiet growl she flitted in the opposite direction of his hand and took a step back, changing her pose to one of defense.

"Don't-" she inhaled, taking a moment to still her trembling, "don't _fucking_ touch me."

His heart beat in his chest, once, and then he was upon her. A gauntleted hand held her shoulder with a grip hard enough to bend steel, the claws digging through clothing and into flesh and causing her heart to leap into her throat.he force of it, nails biting into her skin, tore a soft, restrained gasp from her lips. She shifted her gaze from his eyes for the first time, looking down to observe the movement of his arms, tensing herself and moving her arms to protect herself...

Too slow.

His other dominant hand balled into a fist and struck it into her stomach, pulling a startled croak from her lips. With the weight of him in his full armor moving at such speed, all of that ending up in his hand, he could shatter stone. The force of it lifted her off her feet so that he was all that kept her upright, every last bit of wind in her lungs tumbling forth from her throat. Even if she recoiled, his arm remained locked and did not allow her to back away again. She curled in over herself, shifting onto her toes so that she could shrink in upon her form, as though it would nurse the painful throb vibrating through her entire frame.

Gold locks danced over her shoulder as he leaned in towards her, lips dangerously close to her ear.

“I shall touch you all I want,” he whispered with both his threat, and his excitement of what was to come.

She coughed and spluttered, each breath audible and raspy as she felt him lean closer to her, heat radiating off his skin and bouncing off hers, skin tickling where his hair touched. _She could smell him,_ she realised. Repulsed, she tried to recoil, only to be reminded of the grip on her shoulder, so firm that there were likely bruises forming where his fingers dug in. She could feel dots of pain beginning to register on her stomach, and she realised that on top of the sheer impact, the metal on his gauntlets had cut into the soft flesh of her stomach.

"N-No..." she choked out, shifting her hands in front of her more defensively.

There was something beautiful about the sound of her choking in pain and the ways she tried her damndest not to let everything out of her mouth. He left his fist there just to feel her body shudder around it, with the pain resonating through her quivers and her restrained face. He reveled in the way that she refused to yield. Oh how wonderful she’ll look when he eats her wings and watches her fall from grace.

Her eyes were now fixed on his free arm, her hands shifting to follow each of his movements, prepared to at the very least try to catch any further swings. Zenos caught sight of her gaze on his open arm which retreated, his fist still held tightly as if ready for another strike. It was a feint - he wanted to see her shocked expression yet again.

With her shoulder still locked in his non-dominant hand, he ripped her back, then pulled her upper torso downward so that the same injured stomach met with his rising knee. His fist was well protected by his gauntlets, but the top of his greaves to protect his legs were much more firm and would deliver a more powerful impact. He hoped that maybe with her world spinning she would see the burning fire in his eyes- his crazed look and his grin splitting his face with absolute glee.

Whatever moment for recovery she hoped for was stolen away as that free hand came back around to hold whatever remnants of a top she still wore. The grip on her shoulder released only to have his fingers tangle in her hair and rip it backwards. The intent was to force her spine opposite of the pain and add strain to her spine while forcing her into a backwards curl. Zenos needed to bend forward to complete the motion, but it only gave him another means for his tall frame to lord over her. That calm and taunting smile returned to his face.

She had managed to suppress the cry when his knee rammed into her stomach with full force, a stifled grunt slipping from her lips instead. It wasn't until he yanked her back by her hair that he actually managed to pry a cry from her lips, and hurriedly she clamped down on it, teeth snapping shut audibly as her legs trembled beneath her. If it weren't for his hold on her she was certain she'd have at least sunk to her knees, even if it was only for a second.

She'd taken hits from bloody _primals_. From Ravana, from Susano, from the Lord of the Crags, among a multitude of others. She could manage this... She could...

… or at least, that's what she told herself.

The truth was the pain was far sharper, far more direct, than any hit she'd ever taken. It wasn't like primals aimed for your gods damned stomach.

“Deny me again,” his words purred just loud enough again for only her to hear it. “Come now, my beast, deny me again. Give me the venom of your tongue, bare your feral teeth. Curse me with the names of your false deities, spew your spite. _Deny me again_.”

The Warrior of Light ground her teeth, eyes snapping back open to meet his smile, burning eyes gazing down upon her. Was the pain worse because she stifled her cries? It certainly felt like it. She parted her lips ever so slightly to respond, only to sputter and choke, the taste of copper making itself known on her lips as warmth trailed out a corner of her mouth. A sense of dread blossomed in her stomach as she realised this was an injury that she couldn't heal in her predicament, and she closed her lips, swallowing hard as her gaze faltered. She had nothing on her... if she was as badly wounded as the blood led her to believe.. then...

"Just kill me."

For the first time since she'd been dragged in, she cursed herself. How did she manage to get caught up in this? She was the gods damned Warrior of Light, and yet... here she was, surrounded by enemies on all sides like a cornered animal. She could easily deal with his men, even in this state... if it was only his men she was dealing with.

She frowned.

He wouldn't kill her, of course. But she wasn't going to give him what he asked. She was far too prideful for that, and it was honestly difficult to spit words out in anger when all of your air had been torn from your lungs.

How these savages tried to hold away their grunts of pain, their struggles and woes. They thought themselves witty, thought that they had restrained the prize he seemed to want. How foolish they were- he won no matter what. He reveled in their struggle, he reveled in their cries. His heart was beating so fast in his chest knowing that this woman, their prized Hero, would eventually bend before him on her knees.

“Nonsense,” was his quick reply as if she’d said something funny. He even snickered to himself in amusement. “That’s far too easy, slaying you. That’s the cowards way out. And you, my dear, are certainly no coward. You deserve much better than that.”

Then he let her drop. Zenos released the front of her top and pulled further on her hair so she was forced to fall. He’d savor any expression given as he watched her go down. With the yank on her hair she practically collapsed, her legs far too weak below her to keep supporting her weight.

Of course she would be quick and attempt to catch herself, but he couldn’t have that. The curve in the bottom of his boot was perfectly shaped to hold her neck and push her down until she was pinned on the ground once more. If she flinched or struggled, he’d add pressure to cut off her air.

A gurgle of a protest escaped her lips as she fell to the floor, and then yet more as his foot came down upon her windpipe, unpleasant, crushing, stealing from her the already limited air she was attempting to inhale. Another sputter spilled forth from her throat and she shifted uncomfortably, trying to twist her head to alleviate the pressure on her windpipe. When the Garlean's foot pressed down with even more fervour, she rendered an unpleasant gurgling from her throat. Only when she stilled did he draw it back, but only enough to let her breath.

“Clear the Interrogation rooms of any prisoners and staff. Immediately. I want privacy with the Warrior of Light.”

A lead Centurio who was in control of those quarters straightened his back, but glanced towards Zenos confused. “M-my lord it would take-... take time!”

Disappointment crossed the Viceroy’s face. He reached to the side to snag away the end of a still drawn gunblade and flipped it around in one hand until he had the butt. Without hesitation he pointed the weapon towards the stuttering man and pulled the trigger. It went right through the helm, and like that the man dropped.

“There are no ifs, there are no buts. When an order is given by your Legatus you are expected to execute them immediately. My patience for your incompetences have run dry.”

Her head was spinning wildly, every inch of her frame throbbing in pain, throbbing angrily on the inside and sharp and searing on the outside. Her blood pounding in her ears, soaring to her head, she could barely hear the words coming out of his lips, the sound of a gunshot the only thing cutting through her daze. She was beginning to see stars dotting the edges of her vision. At this rate she was going to pass out, and she wasn't sure if it was from his foot on her throat or from the nauseating pain in her body.

Imperials scrambled around them in an attempt to clean up the fresh mess, but also do as was ordered of them without question. Disappointment was no longer a viable option before their powerful Legatus. Orders were thrown about, boots shifting around them and away until it was just him and her in the center of the wide red carpet in the massive room.

Zenos leaned himself forward on his knee, and though he put more weight on his heel it did put added pressure on her neck. He watched with keen interest to see the fluttering of her eyes, the way her body shuddered with each surge of pain. Only in these moments did his armor seem _tight_.

“Is it too much, my beast?” he asked as he added just another onze of pressure to her neck. He knew if he pushed too much farther he’d crush it, and he couldn’t have her dying on him. “‘Twould be sad if it was. There are still so many limits I wish to test with you. So many more noises I want to hear from those scowling lips.”

Again he smiled.

Each onze of increased pressure tore further choked sounds from her throat, her eyes threatening to lull as she squirmed under his boot, his weight not affording her even a single ilm of movement. She moved her tongue in her mouth, trying desperately to form words, but all that came out of her lips were garbled raspy mumbles, an echo of the words she tried to speak. She mumbled and moaned, unable to form coherent sounds on her tongue with her throat being crushed, and finally she settled on shifting her head ever so slightly left and right. It wasn't an answer to his question, rather a desperate attempt at convincing him to grant her respite, and her hands moved to grab at his calf and push, the strength in her limbs progressively weakening.

“Alas, it might be too much,” Zenos sighed dramatically, as if disappointed, but it was only to further mock her. He gave her only enough ilms to breathe, but not enough for her to take a full inhale without struggle. His foot remained resolute on top of it like it was a reminder of how beneath him she was.

“If you passed out that may be to your advantage. It would give you a moment of escape before I entertain myself with you further. It would also make moving you much easier on me- not that I’d mind your struggle.”

While his boot remained on her throat he calmly reached up to the connecting joints to his pauldrons. He undid the first on his left shoulder and it sunk down on his arm. He threw it dismissively just off to the side of them, and it’s weight slammed onto the floor. It was possible the weight and sturdiness of them would damage the stone long before it ever dented from impact.

“Hmm, what do you think?” he asked as if curious, not caring that she could not reply, “I’m most fond of electricity, but I’ve found archaic things like a single reed effective. Damaging, but too precise to allow the victim to fade out from fatigue.” The second pauldron came free and he did the same with it.

“Never fond of the whip. Efficient but does a little too much damage when attempting to be more effective and not wanting to rush the process.”

With her breath restored her eyes snapped open, and remained that way wide like saucers as she watched the Garlean removing his armor. Finally, _finally_ she could hear him clearly, her blood no longer pounding behind her ears, her head no longer feeling like it was about to explode. He was talking about ... torture?

At least, that's what she surmised, having missed a large chunk of his earlier words. If torture was his intent, that, at least, she'd had some experience with. When they thought she'd been behind Nanamo's murder. It wasn't much, granted; she hadn't been captive for particularly long, but it was _something_ .

She felt her face twisting into a scowl again, and let her brows furrow as she glared back up at the Garlean, her arms gripping with newfound fury at his greaves and pushing.

His brows lifted as if he was surprised, while his pale lips pursed into a tiny ‘o’ shape. His vivid blue eyes however didn’t match the expression. There was no interest in someone who would not jump back to their feet if pushed to their limits. It was that part of her that intrigued him so- that and her spitfire which always brought his thoughts back to her.

“There we are, welcome back,” came out the rather formal greeting- proper, but lacking any real emotion that he cared. He passed her another small, smirking smile before fully releasing her throat.

“Come now, I am sure that they are finished preparing the space for you, our most important guest.”

Zenos moved like lightning again as he did not wish to give her a moment to skitter away from him. Though the chase would be fun, he had much more delightful ideas in mind. Again he bent over her and a gauntlet took hold of one of her wrists with enough force to strain the muscles beneath and pierce the sharp ends into her flesh. Boots stomped on at least one of her settled feet to pin them to the floor, and in the same motion he tugged her up to standing so he could throw her torso onto his back, wrist still held firmly in his hand. A thick arm slipped its way between her legs and lifted it upwards far enough to catch the back of her thigh. Though it was not his intent to skim the armored covered muscle at the sensitive meeting place between her legs, there was still a momentary brush if only due to the thickness of his biceps.

With her body fully over his shoulders he passed the one wrist to his other hand which locked both limbs on the same side to his chest. The free hand shot up to her head blindly to clench tangled locks between his digits and restrain it from any further movement. Though her one arm and leg were still free, it was most likely too awkward to wiggle herself free.

And with that he strolled his way out of the Ala Mhigan throne room to the deeper reaches of the castle.


	2. Do you fear me, oh hero?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Try as she might, there is no escape. He has caged his prey, leaving her at his mercy.
>
>> She almost let out a nervous laugh. "That's.. an obvious.. question.. why would you ask?"
>> 
>> She swallowed down the lump in her throat, and forced herself to let go of the handle. Turning back to face the other, she pressed her back up against the door, forcing her brows into a furrow. She knew she looked terribly like a cornered animal right now, but her desire to avoid looking so trapped was quickly evaporating.
>> 
>> "Suspense, my beast," was his smooth, almost velvet touched reply as he watched her panic.

Even in her pain, fury, like fire, still ran rampant through her veins, and the fact he enjoyed it only served to stoke its flames. She scowled and then let out a choked gasp when he leant over her and squeezed her wrist within his grasp, her fingers practically pulling themselves straight under the pressure.

Her hands tensed, fingers becoming indiscernible from claws as a stuttered groan passed from her throat. She found it cut off when he plucked her up and let her torso fall upon his upper back, winding her once more. A punch and a kick to the stomach could barely compare to her usual experiences, and yet every ilm of her ached something unimaginable. Each footstep he took out of the throne room mounted upon the dull throb in her body.

With a gurgle her lips parted and allowed small specks of blood to spill down her chin and to the floor, leaving a trail of intermittent red behind the pair. She brought her free hand to the hand in her hair and her fingers clawed at the gauntlet, searching for a place of weakness in his armor. Nails dug into the joints where his finger sat but found no flesh, nowhere to grab and push.   
  
She grunted, wrapping her free hand around her upper torso awkwardly to try and grip at his face. Again she meant to claw, to scratch, and when she found her reach too short let out a growl and began to squirm. Breathing erratic as each movement caused her pain, she began to kick with her free leg, wriggling her torso and free arm as much as she could in an attempt to throw off Zenos' balance. The motion caused her thighs to rub furiously against his upper arm, jagged metal cutting into the soft flesh. But even though she despised having his arm twixt her legs, there was naught she could do about it in this position.

"Oh how even when all is naught the mighty beast struggles," the Legatus stated in a voice as if he was listening to beautiful music. There was even a pleasant smirk on his pale lips. 

"To wretch your limbs under strong arms- use your paws to claw your way out. I'm only sad I cannot continue to bear witness to your fire. But soon…" His voice dropped to a lower note and the words practically rolled off his tongue. "Soon enough…"

She paid no mind to his words, her focus held on trying desperately to garner some semblance of control over the situation, maybe she'd manage to pull herself from his grip and flee. Her scalp was all but screaming at this point, each wrestle of movement from her tugging on the locks tangled into his palm. 

To not dissuade her struggling but instead rile her up further, every few yalms of their journey he'd shift his shoulders and step just to have her bounce in his restraint. Each time he let out a low hum and returned to his walk, and she'd let out a huff - not intentionally. His shoulder blades and neck dug into her stomach, winding her anew each time, and sending a pang of pain into the pit of her stomach where it still ached terribly. She clawed and writhed, but she'd get no reaction from him other than his grip tightening and shifted her again. 

It was a long walk to his intended location. The walls were classic stone, but many of the fixtures had been changed to electric lights and banners of the Empire were hung everywhere. Each time they passed patrol their stature locked and saluted to them, but Zenos gave no reply. They were not worth his time, not like she was.

They came upon two very heavy metal doors which the Imperial guards unlocked and opened for him to not halt his stride. It was not until they were inside and the doors locked behind them that he stopped. 

The room itself was fitted greatly to Garlean style: gunmetal steel walls and floors, lights mounted into the ceiling above them. On the right wall was a large viewing window, but from their side all they could see were their reflections. There were holding cells just opposite the window to hold prisoners, but they were empty as he had ordered. The contents of the room were far more important, albeit terrifying to most.

Metal tables with leather shackles. Machines with probes and unknown functions. A glass cabinet with various vials, tubes, bottles and syringes. A wall of nothing but locked tools such as blades, knives, whips, and weapons. And everywhere there were remnants of previous victims from their blood left behind in either stains or coagulated puddles. 

It wasn't until he made his way into the room and she caught sight of the blood strewn across the floor that she froze.She took a moment to scan the room with her eyes, and cursed her body when she felt her skin pebble in a way he was certain not to miss.

Zenos bent at his knees and hung his head so that he may slide her off his form and free her. It was the gentlest motion he'd made since her arrival. 

"Now the obvious question," he asked as he stood up full and began to pull his gauntlets off, "the easy way, or hard?" 

He threw the glove absentmindedly to the side as his eyes were only on her. 

"Please choose wisely…" It was a threat, but his smile hoped she'd choose wrong.

Finally free from his grasp, she shifted, her stomach twisting uncomfortably, a rising sickness swelling in her chest as her heart leapt into her throat. She heard him speak, heard his words, but instead turned to see the door closed behind them. She'd heard them close, she'd heard them lock, but she... she couldn't believe it, couldn't accept it.   
  
She took a step towards them, gently resting a hand on the handle and yanking, her fingers tightening around the shaped metal when it didn't budge.   
  
She almost let out a nervous laugh.

"That's.. an obvious.. question.. why would you ask?"

She swallowed down the lump in her throat, and forced herself to let go of the handle. Turning back to face the other, she pressed her back up against the door, forcing her brows into a furrow. She knew she looked terribly like a cornered animal right now, but her desire to avoid looking so trapped was quickly evaporating.

"Suspense, my beast," was his smooth, almost velvet touched reply as he watched her panic. He had to steady his own breathing to not allow his eagerness to become too obvious. Patience was required for such a specimen like the Warrior of Light. 

Zenos felt all of his inside fill with flames as her terror bubbled to the surface. Oh his armor had become _far too tight_ as every muscle seemed to swell and pulse from the excitement of what was to come. He pondered what he would do to her, what was needed to get the right sounds from her open mouth - like he was preparing to play an instrument. Oddly enough of all the music that he could play, the screams from a person in pain was his favorite sound. 

"If you... If you even... go so far as to... as to..." her words froze on her tongue. She looked at him, scanning his body for somewhere she could attack, some weakness. His neck was a bit difficult to get to, but reasonably exposed... there was his face... his shoulders wouldn't be a wise choice…

A terrified animal made two choices, fight or flee. Zenos had hunted enough savages to be keen on when that switch was flipped. The only visual route out was the one way mirror, but few had enough strength to break through it. Maybe she could, but he'd not give her the chance. 

She huffed, and turned her sight to the window. She'd never seen him run, and he was encumbered by that armor... If she could just... 

In a flash, she bolted, darting to one side of the room and then towards the window on the far end. She didn't bother to look towards him to see if he responded.

His body moved after her like he was semisolid and was able to zip in front of her rushing form. When he stopped he was just off to her side with his arm extended at her waist level. With little warning and with her at full speed, she'd slam her already sore stomach into the thick unyielding limb. He chose not to restrain her and instead let her crumble. 

She didn't have the chance to see. All she felt was the pain. Her insides screamed at her as she curved over his arm, held so firm it might as well have been a bar of metal fixed into the wall. She could feel blood, acid, everything churning angrily in her abdomen, aching, throbbing, practically yelling at her to _stop_ as she crumpled to the floor with a choke.

The armor was too binding. As he lorded over her he began to undo his belts and the clasps to his breastplate. Each fell to the floor like the rest of his armor before- without a care. When the breastplate came free he pulled it from his form and just dropped it to the side, filling the empty space with the loud crash of metal on metal. 

The entire time his vivid blue eyes stared at her: entertained and hungry.

She placed her hands on the floor in front of her, taking a moment to gather herself, head spinning and stomach reeling. Her throat burned, her mouth was dry and her tongue tasted of copper. Breathing _hurt_ . She could hear the tell tale sounds of armour being undone, and she stole a glance up, wincing as the lights in the ceiling glared down upon her.

That was it.

_That was it._

A vulnerability. And quite possibly the only one she'd get.

She glanced down to the opposite end of the room, and then darted again, moving to the wall of tools to single out a knife and beginning to fiddle with the fastenings. Clumsy fingers slipped and fumbled over each other in her desperation, the sweat on them picking up dots of dried blood and leaving a coating of crimson, smearing fingertips wherever she touched. She glanced back to see her assailant take a step towards her, her breath catching in her throat and practically whistling out in her panic.

_No.. no! Please!_

She was practically begging the world to just let her get this _Gods damned knife_ . She was quickly running out of options, and her eyes darted to where his breastplate lay abandoned.

It was impossible to describe with words how he vibrated seeing an animal panic. Flight was taken from her so fight was the only option left. So desperate she was to get anything to use to fight him, not that anything on those walls would help her. That panic- he could drink it down for an eternity. By the end of this he'd make her beg, _plead_ for him to take her life.

Not that she'd get it. 

Zenos approached like a patient predator, his pace steady and slow. He made sure that every footfall was loud enough to echo in the room. Even over her panting he wanted her to hear them and grow more panicked. The way she scrambled was a glorious scene to his eyes. This was one of the best parts of the hunt. 

With a hiss, her lungs burning and every inhale agony in her throat, she fled to where his breastplate sat, and grabbed at it haphazardly, nearly dropping it due to the perspiration that coated her hands. With a cry she lifted it, and brought it down, aiming towards his head and expecting, _hoping desperately_ , to hear the thud of it against his skull.

He didn't expect her to go for his breastplate. 

The thing was too heavy for an average person to lift, and he needed two to three attendants to help him get it on. Yet she swung it masterfully, albeit foolishly. Zenos turned on foot to catch it in his bare hand, but there was a stutter in his arm as he held it back. 

A broken cry tumbled forth from her throat before she could stop it, and her eyes grew absolutely wild with panic. She pushed with even more fervour against his defence, as though managing to force his arm to falter would somehow allow her to finish her swing and bring his armour down against his skull.

"Now that is an interesting choice of defense," he mocked, his voice still full of glee, "I think I will need to go much harder on you. I think you can take it."

_N-no._

Her stomach was absolutely reeling. So much adrenaline flowed through her veins that she could practically feel her body trembling. Every part of her body was lit alight, muscles tense like thousands of bowstrings pulled taut and ready to snap. She couldn't feel the pain anymore, only the tremor in every ilm of her body.

She had strength, he'd give her that. His one arm especially in a bent position did struggle _just a bit_ to keep the front of his breastplate from making its way onto his head. 

"If you had caught me off guard, this may have actually hurt," he murmured, a bit bemused as if he was talking more to himself than her. 

His hand flipped to catch the extended neck of the breastplate to toss it over his head, her hands swiftly recoiling to her chest and making a defensive x-shape. It clattered against the wall and caused spider cracks to form on the plexiglass that covered the liquid solutions inside the clear cabinet. A few even topped over inside, but he didn't care. Zenos' icy blue eyes were locked on her terrified face.

The spare hand reached forward to snag her chin in his iron grip and held it firm enough to cause the bone beneath to ache. Muscles rippled beneath his pale flesh as he pressed it upward to not just meet his eyes, but actually lift her to her to the balls of her feet. Just like before she was too slow, too weak, to catch and stop his movements, and he wrenched her to her toes as though she were little more than a ragdoll. He tore a choked, surprised squeak from her lips as he pushed her head backwards. 

Down the length of his nose his vision pierced into hers, his smile growing. 

"Do you fear me, oh Hero of Eorzea? Does your heart throb in panic seeing my face? Is your mind racing with all the ways I may abuse you?"

With how his palm pressed up against her jaw it wasn't like she could move her head, let alone speak. Her teeth were clenched together, uncomfortably so, but were his hand not there it wouldn't have mattered. Her voice had abandoned her, and the only noises that came from her throat was that of her chest heaving, breath coming out in pants. 

Her eyes strained downwards to maintain contact with his. The pressure of it all had begun to make her lightheaded. She was so close to whimpering, so damned close, and she pulled her hands into her chest, digging her nails into her palms in a desperate attempt to control herself. She could feel her pulse running absolutely wild beneath his palm, each throb an uncomfortable reminder of just how obvious her fear was. Grunting, she let one of her hands latch onto his forearm, feebly trying to pull his grip off and away from her. It scared her just how quickly her strength had begun to fade.

"It's almost precious the way you fight, even in the most dire of circumstances…" Zenos purred as he drew his face closer to hers. His breath danced over her face, strands of gold tickled her cheeks and shoulders like a parted curtain around the two of them. There was no one else here but him and her, no one to stop him, no one to save her. And as his smile widened he knew he'd not have it any other way.

Just like the ragdoll she'd become, he tossed her aside. It wasn't a mindless toss much like his armor, he had an intentional target. Towards the center of the room there were two metal poles that stood about waist high for him The space between them was longer than a roe's height. At the top of them pointing towards the ceiling were two sturdy gears. Twisted around the pin through the center of the gears were thick cable wire, its twisted metal form slack enough at the moment to rest on the floor. At the end of each of the wires were two cuffs which appeared to be made of some type of leather. His aim was to have her tumble before them to trap her in the place he desired. 

At his toss she stumbled, each step bringing her closer to the floor until she fell to her knees in the centre of the room. Her arms shot out to grab at the poles and catch herself upon them so that she didn't tumble to her face.

Using their sturdiness to support her weight, she pulled herself back onto her feet, her knees half bent so she was somewhere between crouching and standing, and turned to face the other. Her throat was so dry now that her breathing had become audible, each inhale raspy and sometimes gurgly when more bloody came up her throat.

"How you try, and try, and try…" the Viceroy spoke in a low, taunting tone, "Once more, shall you deny me? I wish to hear that anger from you again."

With a sharp inhale, one that echoed through the room, she forced the fearful expression on her face to one that was slightly more contained, though her worry still peeked through. Skittering, she moved so that the poles were between her and her assailant.

The Warrior of Light tilted her head downwards so that she gazed at him with a cautious expression on her face, and took a single step backwards, straightening her form ever so slightly.

"Come now… not even a word?" he asked in mocked disappointment, hand extended and wove to his side if only to accent it. The man couldn't really form a pout, but there was the tiniest bend of the center of his eyebrows. 

"After all this, I am quite surprised you can still stand… you fail to disappoint."

Zenos did not move to chase her, and certainly not at the speed that he had when he stopped her potential escape through the two way mirror. No he was utterly calm which appeared in his relaxed shoulders, the way his lids remained half closed, and the miniscule smile on his lips. Instead of approaching her he moved to the opposing metal pole and knelt himself downward enough to snag one of the cuffs. He stood upright again, his body radiating with that powerful aura he carried on him even without his armor. There was the confidence in his face and the stature in his body that between the two of them in the room, he was the predator and she was the prey.

"Come my beast," he offered as he extended the leather cuff forward with it hung from two of his hooked fingers. A cheek pulled up in a minute way to bring that taunting smirk back to his face. 

"I can see you desire to end this dance. If you can show me some obedience, I can offer leniency."

Gods he was right. She wanted it to end. She really, truly did. And she knew it showed on her face, her eyes likely pleading silently for an end to this.

But not like this.

Not strung up like a slab of meat and at his mercy.

She... she couldn't.

Nausea swam through her like a tide, followed by a wave of hopelessness. Utter hopelessness. It wasn't an emotion she was used to, and it stung. Her stomach churned angrily, a lump forming in her throat. Her gaze fell to the floor, and she swallowed, tears pricking at the back of her eyes.

She took a step back, and then lifted her eyes back to meet him. There was nothing left for her to try. Every route, every possible option of escape, had been crossed off the list.

She took a hesitant step back... 

... and sank to her knees, letting her head fall forward.

"Why do you want this..." she breathed out, her voice so soft, so weak, it was nigh silent. "You sick bastard..."

She swallowed back a sob, blinking down the tears.

"I'll tell you... what you want... please just... don't... don't hurt me anymore..."

And there it was.

Pushed to the brink, having taken away every escape route and every means of fight, she finally surrendered. They _always_ surrendered. He held back the smile but oh how joy spun in his belly seeing this Hero of Eorzea fall to her knees before him- what a beautiful sight. 

Zenos approached, but his dominant posturing had faded. Instead his step was light enough that it was almost not audible. There was something serene in his gaze as he lowered himself down onto one knee, not bringing himself to eye level but still settled with little defense. He extended his open hand gingerly, letting his fingers hook under one of her limp hands and lifted it in his own. It was more akin to a gentleman holding a ladies hand to lead her versus the harsh grip he had before.

"People are fascinating, but in the end, they are but animals," the Legatus explained, his voice very analytical and neutral. 

As he spoke he drew her hand to the leather cuff he had picked up. He was gentle as he placed her wrist inside and then began to wrap it round. 

"Consciousness is the only thing that divides them from beasts, but if pushed to the breaking point they will become feral, working on those inner instincts as they throw their conscious thinking to the wind. And I _relish_ in bringing a person down to their most primal form."

Once the leather cuff was bound to her wrist he used his left hand to catch her chin on the side of his hooked index finger and lift her gaze to ensure her eyes met his. 

"You intrigue me. Most would have crumbled long before you, begged for their life or the freedom of death before they made it to this room. But even against all odds, you took every measure, even if you knew in your core that there was no escape…" 

His smile returned- small, but the pleasure behind his lips evident. He lifted his thumb from that curved hand to slide featherlight over her lower dry petal. "I am curious to see how far past the breaking point I can push you…"

She literally felt every bit of her body sink, and then sink further still as he knelt in front of her, her head hanging forward like dead weight. His touch was hot and cold at the same time, so gentle it felt wrong, and she felt her stomach twist, swallowing hard as though it would do something to alleviate the rising sickness in her throat. It felt like she was going to throw up at any moment from sheer panic. 

She heard him speaking, his tone all too gentle and calm for her liking, but could pay little attention to what he said. She was only aware of how she quivered, and the gooseflesh that littered her skin.

Until she heard the last few words, and her awareness snapped back up, eyes widening and meeting his as her head began to spin.

"W-what!? Nn-No..." She let out a nervous chuckle. "P-please, I told you I'd- I'd tell you, I'd do anything!! P-please just tell me what you want and I'll do it, I'll answer you! Don't- don't... don't..."

Her gaze fell back down, the nails of her free hand digging into her thigh in an attempt to combat the rising wave of panic that swept through her. "Th-there's no need for more suffering right? I-I'll do as you want..."

Her voice wavered with uncertainty, and for a brief moment she gazed at where he held her bound arm, suddenly feeling the desperate urge to yank it from his grasp. But what good would that avail her... It'd just be more of the same... Fleeing with no escape, a cornered animal... Assuming she'd manage to free herself fast enough to even flee.

"Please be gentle..." she finally choked out, letting her head fall forward and curling her unoccupied hand into a fist in an attempt to stifle the urge to cry. Her eyes were swimming, and she screwed them shut for the briefest of seconds, breath catching in her throat. 

"Don't.. hu...rt...me.." It was obvious in her tone. In how her voice cracked as it grew closer and closer to silent. She knew what she said didn't matter.

Zenos watched her face as all the emotions flashed through her. He did not move his hand nor his form, but instead continued to draw his thumb over her quivering petal. The remnants of blood from her previous coughing smeared further onto her flesh, as well as painting the flat side of his thumb. His expression never changed as he stared with a calm, yet piercing gaze. When her voice crumbled at the end, his cheeks pulled the smile just up a tiny bit more.

"Denial," he began as he pulled his thumb and hand away and pressed the digit to his lips. He kissed away the flavor and dragged his tongue across it to enjoy the touch of copper. She let her head hang forward once more when his hand slid from her chin. It felt numb, empty, as though her head were stone fixed to her neck, weighing it down. 

An urge ran through him to bite down on that pouty lip and tear it open so he could suck down more of her essence. Patience- he had more than enough time.

"Anger, you have been through these two already," again his voice was analytical, like a teacher explaining more to a child than to another adult. 

He reached for the secondary cuff with the same slow movements. He lifted her other hand into the leather and looped the belt into place. They were too snug to slip out of, but the fur lining keep them from biting too much. 

"And so quickly we tumbled over the next three- bargaining, depression- you're _almost_ at the brink of acceptance. Not fully there, there is still a piece of you hoping- praying that you'll come out of this in one piece. A pity it was too soon but..." 

Zenos brushed the back of his hand against her wet cheek, the touch again featherlight to savor the way her face prickled under his knuckles. "... still you intrigue me, my beast. But my word is my bond. I did promise you leniency."

When he spoke, his words bounced around in her head, each word like a knife to an already unsettled stomach. Each syllable that was spoken felt as though he pressed upon her chest with his foot and ground his heel in, further and further, pressing so hard that her heart struggled to beat without sending jolts of pain along her frame.

He stood from her, again his pace steady as he crossed over to one of the metallic poles. His fingers pushed into one side and revealed a hidden panel that slid open. Beneath that were two buttons: one green, one red. The thumb landed on the green button and those icy blue eyes met hers again. Oh how he wanted to watch her fear course through her again with him doing little to nothing. 

Zenos pressed the green button, and the gears at the top of each rod rotated, and pulled the metallic cords taut. With her hands bound to them, they would pull her arms in opposite directions until she was splayed before him on her knees.

She had begun to shiver, every ilm of her body trembling uncontrollably as her insides twisted. She glanced up at him, her brows arching, almost _pleading_ silently. When her wrists were tugged forward she made no sound, nor did she turn her gaze from his, instead shifting onto her knees to hobble forward so that she would not be dragged along the floor. At this point she just wanted to avoid any further pain.

"What... are you... going to do...?" she whispered out, her gaze finally falling from his face to stare through him. Her tongue darted out to wet her lips, but her mouth was so dry from her attempts at fleeing that she did little more than smear blood along her flesh.

How pathetic she had become- unraveled, her basic survival instincts completely exposed before him. Again he thought back to how she was the grand Hero of Eorzea and she pitifully begged for mercy. He passed her one more smile before turning his vision away from her to face the large assortment of items on the wall. His arms hung at either side while he took in the various tools at his disposal, but his right hand rolled the dirtied thumb over his middle finger in a focus twitch.

The positioning of the restraints were intentional. Though there was space between it and many other devices in the room such that the captive always faced towards the wall of devices. This meant that they could not easily meet the eyes of other prisoners, nor see either their captors', nor their own reflection in the one way mirror. All that was before their eyes were the instruments of pain. 

"This is an interrogation room, as such, I am going to ask questions and what happens will solely depend on your willingness to give me the information I seek." The tone of his voice had completely emptied out to something completely neutral. Zenos was focused on what device he'd use on a savage like her, what would give impact without breaking her further. Interrogation was a careful dance of treat and knife. Too much of one would cause the entire thing to crumble. 

He thought back to his previous discussion- albeit to himself- in regards to what device to use. His finger pressed to one of the locked cabinets filled with an assortment of thinner wooden instruments. The lock on the plexiglass door beeped several times before it opened for him. He pulled down the thinnest item which appeared to be a narrow, smooth stick. With a small flick he shut the door behind him and then with a casual pace, his eyes completely off hers, he moved around the restraining poles and out of her vision.

His footfalls were loud again. They echoed in the enclosed space with only the two of them, and that aura of power lingered behind her form. He inhaled deeply through his nose as he wanted it to be heard. Calculating eyes danced over her from behind, the way her arms were stretched taut and unable to pull herself free. But the tension revealed other things to him that he savored: muscles under strong arms capable of fighting off his soldiers, the way the position caused her back muscles to remain tense and prominent. Fabric was all that was between him and his prize. 

Uncomfortable. Tense. The pain in her stomach had ebbed to a dull throb... and that was all she could be grateful for in her current situation. She did not know how much she trusted him to keep his word, not to mention she did not know what he was going to ask. He was a man who liked to play with his victim, that much was evident, and it sent alarm bells ringing in her head. Who knew what he was going to ask her.

Her muscles were already locked together, but it wasn't until he moved outside her field of vision that she moved. She rocked, swaying gently on her knees so that she could wrap her hands around the wire that held her in place. Her head fell forward, and then she stilled, ears pricking at each sound, waiting, listening.

He bent behind her, breath intentionally dancing over the exposed skin of her shoulder. Zenos took a moment to lean towards her, inhale the smell of her hair and the lingering scent of her terror. Thick digits tangled around the neckline of her nightdress, and after two firm tugs he tore it straight down the spine until her back was exposed.

She inhaled sharply, flinching when what she felt was not some sort of pain but the tickle of his breath against her skin, and then tensing further still when she felt deft fingers dancing along the edge of her garb. An exasperated sound somewhere between a gasp and a cry tore from her lips when he yanked on her dress, the force of it tugging so furiously on her arms it felt like they were about to pop from their sockets until the fabric finally gave way. Skin dotting with gooseflesh as it was hit with cold air, she rocked back. With a slightly pained grunt making it evident how taut her bindings were, she shifted upon her knees so that she brought one of her legs in front of her. Her legs were now positioned as though she were kneeling. This way, she thought, she could maintain some semblance of balance.

Her skin appeared excited, but also nervous. Those invisible baby hairs were standing on end, and he danced two fingers over her back with a featherlight kiss to only cross those hairs and not specifically touch her tense flesh. He used those same two fingers and drifted the pads along the lines of her tense muscles around shoulders and down her spine. Zenos enjoyed the honesty in her body's struggle even if her mind was attempting to hold all her shudders back. This body that had warded off primals and pierced through even his own armies. He wanted to find every nerve, every weak point, every spot in her that made her cry and made her quiver at his hands.

Time passed as he savored the sensation of her skin without muttering a word or giving her a sound other than his light breath over her. Finally he spoke: "I expect honesty from you. Lies and hesitations will be met with punishment. It is now your choice to avoid further pain." 

His hand pulled away and the wooden instrument he had fetched pressed into her shoulder. He let her feel its thin, sturdy, but flexible state as he dragged it over to her spine, then used the length and the tip to follow her tensed spine. Zenos' breath became slower as it tickled her raised, tense flesh, and leaned himself further forward to place his lips just at the rim of her ear. Silk golden locks layered over her shoulders, adding a cover of the warmth in the cool room.

"Please know I am well versed in reading liars…" he purred directly into her ear. Though she could not see his smile, he knew she could sense it.


	3. Lies and hesitation will be met with punishment.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Try as she might to lie on her comrades behalf, she meets the bite of the reed. He has to restrain himself, he needs to be patient.
>
>> “You are a very poor liar,” Zenos assured her with an empty tone. “Still you try, a foolish endeavour on your part.”
>> 
>> There was plenty of flesh on her exposed shoulders to hit, which is why he continued to taunt it with the kisses of his reed. She was not broken, not yet. 
>> 
>> He hoped she wouldn’t shatter.

Her skin practically rippled beneath his touch. Even the brush of air upon her back sent a wave of gooseflesh quivering along her spine, and the lightest brush of his fingers or his hair had her muscles twitching. She knew he could see it, relished it, and she _despised_ it. 

She was already so damned panicked that when he spoke she nearly vomited out a promise she didn't know if she could keep - to tell the truth. She knew not what he'd ask, let alone if she'd have an answer. And in her tense state, her consciousness so high strung, she did not hear what he said beyond his expectation for honesty. She only swallowed, breath coming out in soft but still laboured pants. 

Even though the Warrior was nowhere near physically cold enough to shiver, she trembled from the inside out, her stomach tying itself into knots over and over and over again with each featherlight touch. It was almost a relief when he finally pressed the wooden implement against her back, its pressure far firmer, far surer against her skin than his fingers had ever been. It gave her body a moment of respite amidst the constant flinching and pebbling, and in her relief she nearly thanked him, swallowing the word down before it could reach her lips. 

Zenos pulled from her and let his form lorde over her once again. He'd need the distance if he required enough strength to make good use of his reed. Again he tapped her back with the upper tip as a reminder of what would happen if she dared break his order. 

"We know of Castrum Oriens, as well as that hidden hole the rats tried to use- Ralgar's Reach I believe," he stated, his voice going cold. Each word was calculated, his consonants and vowels well pronounced. They left no room for her to not understand the statement. He wanted her to quiver, he wanted her more afraid and to remove any sense of resistance. The reed tapped on her left shoulder once, twice, then rested on her open flesh. 

"Are there any other villages within Gyr Abania that are hiding, or even assisting in this rebellion?" 

And just like that she felt her throat close off, her breath stuttering to a halt in her chest. She could tell the truth, this time. She could be deliberately vague, but... 

"Yes." 

Swallowing hard she shifted, bringing her other leg in front of her so that she was squatting on the balls of her feet. 

The reed withdrew from her shoulder and he held it above her head so she'd not know its presence. He waited five seconds to allow panic to churn inside her, but when it came down it landed on her shoulder. No strike, no hit- just a tap. The suspense made his insides coil delightfully and he found himself grinning. 

She let out a soft squeak, flinching with each second that she expected to feel the reed come down, sharp, stinging. The Warrior then let out a sharp exhale when it did, jumping but thankfully not crying out. It was humiliating enough flinching in suspense, but to cry out when there was no pain would have been far worse. 

"Names," Zenos commanded as he tapped the reed two more times on her shoulders. 

When he prodded her further she crossed her fingers internally, hoping her plan was enough. For a brief moment she hesitated, and then she swallowed. She'd always been told she was a terrible liar, but every context in which she'd lied had been amongst friends, small white lies for the sake of surprises. This could not compare, and the fear swelling in her chest told her this time she would not be convincing. 

"Just one," she breathed. Her legs were quivering below her. "I... It's... it's called... Gyr Arabana." 

Hells, she really _was_ a terrible liar. The Warrior flinched, moving onto her toes so that her back arched away ever so slightly from the Garlean. If that reed slipped from her back, she'd waste no time scooting forward with her legs, though she wasn't sure how much that would save her if he brought it down upon the top of her shoulders. 

The reed tapped again while she gathered herself in preparation. This was the first sign; who she was willing to throw under an Imperial Tank, what consequences would happen knowing what her words would do in the Viceroy's hands. A person at wits end would spill immediately, potentially made up items just to get a sense of freedom. She balanced her choices. He tapped her shoulder with a tempoed pace just to remind her of the situation she was in. 

The second sign was the stutter, followed by the way she prepared for the hit. Zenos knew before she opened her mouth, and she sealed her fate just after. The reed lifted off of her shoulder and hung in the air. Five seconds, then five more. He waited longer than the previous strike before the reed whipped down and whistled through the air. 

It snapped against the chord just off to her left side, but even against such a taut object the wood made a noise that was akin to a whip. It recoiled away from the force, and was so fast the air could be felt over her bare flesh. 

A hiss of air passed through her lips as she clamped her teeth together, her legs flitting forward so her back arched. It was her only direction of escape, and she moved too slow anyway. Had it been an actual hit it would have landed. 

The reed returned to her left shoulder and that light, tempoed tapping began again. 

"You are a very poor liar," Zenos assured her with an empty tone. "Still you try, a foolish endeavour on your part." 

Her legs trembled under the strain of holding her in such an awkward position for a few moments, until, still quivering, she eased back into her previous position. Her calves were already beginning to scream at her in exhaustion, begging her to stop sitting on the balls of her feet in such a tense position. 

So that's how it was then. 

The Warrior swallowed, and then exhaled so very slowly, letting her eyes slip shut. Below her her legs trembled in their exertion. 

What an odd means of escape. Zenos stared a little perplexed with how she had arched her back away to avoid the hit. There was plenty of flesh on her exposed shoulders to hit, which is why he continued to taunt it with the kisses of his reed. The absolutely useless motions would potentially cause her more pain by tensing her form, yet she tried. She was not broken, not yet. 

He hoped she wouldn't shatter. 

She had to admit she felt her cheeks colour when she realised he likely had no intention of hitting her back, and yet she'd fled anyway. She hung her head, hoping the heat she felt rising to her ears was not accompanied by colour, and then shifted uncomfortably. 

If she stayed in this position much longer her legs were likely to begin shaking in visible exhaustion. Moving carefully she shifted her legs back below her so she was on her knees, though her legs as a whole were already beginning to get fatigued and the weight she had begun to transfer to her arms had them aching slightly. 

The reed stopped on her shoulder just at the curve to her neck. There was a bit of tension in it which caused the solid surface to crease into her flesh. 

"Have you any lovers in your life? If so, how many?" 

Again the question came out neutral, cold, analytical. There was no taunt or mischievous undertone in it. It was just as serious as his previous questions. Her head, however, snapped back up to face ahead of her, a bewildered expression crossing upon her face. 

"W-What??" she stuttered out, "What kind of a question...? Wh-... How is this relevant?" 

She craned her head to the side in an attempt to look upon him, to raise an eyebrow in confusion. When she failed to do so turned back to face the front, shaking her head, stunned. 

He was patient. A hunt like this required it, especially with such a fascinating doe. She could not be pushed too far or she'd break. Just enough force, mixed with just enough suspense to keep her reeling. Zenos felt every ilm of him become tight enough that it was almost uncomfortable. 

But he had to be patient. The hunt had only begun. 

"I... yes, I... guess..." she finally answered, letting her head turn back down, still shaking side to side. The bewildered expression hadn't left her face. "I've had two..." 

Just as she finished the words, the reed came down. It made contact with the back of her right shoulder and traveled at light speed across her back to her left side. He'd only used a portion of his strength, but knew it was just enough. The line it would leave on her flesh would be a beautiful sharp red, and the roughness of the stick would be just enough to open flesh. That crimson would look glorious on her taut back muscles. 

She sucked in a breath and let out a yelp, not having expected the reed to hit at all this time. Beneath her torso she tensed, lower legs lifting slightly and toes curling as she jumped, jerking forward against the bindings. 

"Hey! I answered honestly!" she protested, swiveling her head to try and glare at him again as her brows furrowed. "What more do you want me to do? Did you _want_ me to lie?" 

"As I had stated previously, lies and hesitation will be met with punishment," Zenos explained. His voice was still neutral, giving no sign that he was pleased, or even disappointed in the situation. It wasn't exactly like he didn't care either. His words were empty of any sense of emotions, but it was intentional. He did not want her to predict what was to come next. 

"What you failed to ask is how you would be punished, how many, and most importantly: when. An infraction was made on your part when you lied about locations of rebels and those that harbor them, and therefore punishment is warranted." There was a small uptick in his voice as his cheek curved to a smirk. The frustration in her, even the rage, tasted sweet in his mouth. 

Again the reed struck, this time from her upper left hip to just above the panty line on her right side. This time it struck harder, causing it to bite into the skin more painfully. Once more he felt his heart beat strongly seeing the wound form on her skin. 

Again she jerked forward, this time arching her back forward and lifting her lower legs up towards her body instinctively, feet flexing upwards as she hissed and then growled slightly, pain flaring up following the impact. Her hands tightened in their bindings and became white knuckled around the wires they held. For a few moments she stayed arched with her legs lifted, using the wires to support her weight as best she could. 

When the pain finally abated enough, becoming a dulled sting, she let herself sink back into her relaxed position. Still tension sat under her skin, leaving her ready to jump and move at any moment. Her muscles were practically twitching. 

"Then have you ever sucked cock?" Zenos' taunting was evident in his voice and it seemed to purr in the room. 

Again bewilderment struck her expression, this time mingling with slight pain. 

"I... wh... I mean..." She felt heat rising to her ears again and tilted her gaze to the floor. "... Yes..." 

Using the tip of the thin stick he made swirls and patterns on her back, though the pressure was always firmer when he moved over broken flesh. Eventually he pulled it back before giving one of those familiar 'taps', but this time it met the meeting place between her thighs, rapping lightly at the plushness between her panties. 

The previous wound had begun to sting beneath the open air, and she inhaled sharply every time he ran the tip of the stick over it. Muscles twitched as she inadvertently bucked forward and tried to move away from where the reed trailed. 

When it slipped between her legs to tap gently against her sex she couldn't help letting out a startled cry. She jumped, snapping her legs together so fast they closed over the reed as her ankles interlocked over one another. 

"D… d… don't..." she stammered out, lower legs shooting upwards again, this time in a different form of discomfort. She was now almost pulling her weight upwards via her hands, as if she were trying to lift herself from the floor. 

"Don't?" he asked with a scoff on the word. 

Though her legs were closed, there was little she could do against the small stick as he tugged it back and forth against her panties, adding pressure when he could see he'd found his way between her folds. His ministrations remained slow so that she'd feel every ilm as he pressed it forward, then back. The pace was steady but difficult to ignore when he dragged it out so long. 

"You plead as if you have a choice in this scenario. You are but my prisoner- my prey. If I wished it, I could brand my name into your skin, peel flesh and muscle from your bones. Maybe even put your head on a placard hung above my throne as a reminder to all Eorzeans that those that stand before me, even their mightiest, will find themselves at death's door." 

Even through the cloth each ridge and dip upon the reed was made acutely known to her. As the Garlean pushed and tugged it between her legs, soft gasps punctuated by whimpers slipped from her tongue, legs tightening in a fruitless attempt to stop its movement. Her brows knit together, eyes snapping shut as he spoke, each word, each movement, causing her to tense her body further and further. When she shuddered at the thought of all that he said, sickness swelled within her breast. She hoped it slipped his attention given how she was already quivering. 

Zenos' smile widened as he released the reed entirely. As he inhaled the scent of her nervousness and her fear he felt his body tighten again. 

Patience, he had to remind himself while his tongue slid over his upper lip. _Patience_ . 


	4. But you have nothing left to give

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The reed had been painful, but she is not prepared for this type of humiliation- to be used in such a way. He will take what he desires from her... Even her screams.
>
>> Another wretched sob tore forth from her throat when his hand plucked her chin and he spoke, each word driving home the reality of her situation, mounting upon the agony that twisted in her gut. 
>> 
>> That happy proud smile spun to something more sadistic, more hungry to see her suffer. “Open your mouth or spread your legs. That is all you have left to offer me to spare you from further agony.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was certainly one of our favorite chapters for just quotes from Zenos kekeke.

Zenos’ footsteps were once again loud in the open room as he made his way around to her front. Given the space between the poles that stretched her arms to their absolute limit, it took some time for him to reach her front, even with his steady stride. As he curved around her field of vision, his eyes were locked on her. Though calm there was a predatory look- like she was nothing more than meat to him to be consumed, and he appeared excited to taste her flavor. 

He stopped directly before her, his tall form lording over her, eyes focused down the length of his nose. He still bore that same small, mocking, dominating smile. A bare hand reached for her face and placed a curved finger beneath her jaw and his thumb to her chin. He lifted it slowly to force her to meet his eyes so that he could devour that look of nervousness and fear. 

"You stated you’d do anything to avoid the pain. I wonder how far you are willing to go to do just that? What part of your ego you are willing to toss aside so that you keep your mind intact. To keep your life. What say you, my beast?" His thumb lifted from her chin and smoothed against her dry bottom petal, yet his eyes fixed upon hers again. 

"I want to hear you beg." 

It wasn't until he stilled that she even managed to quell her tremble, though even then it made little difference; her legs still squeezed together uncomfortably. The pain on her back was all but forgotten now - little more than a sting - and had it been any other time she would have hissed when she felt his fingers upon her. 

But this wasn't any other time. 

This time she looked up at him, not that she had a choice. Uncertainty and discomfort were plain on her face for anyone to see as heat crept to the tips of her ears. Having never been in a situation like this prior, it took little more than a second for her to avert her gaze downwards to avoid his. 

A lump rose within her throat. She hadn't noticed it. Not until she swallowed hard as he spoke. 

She willed herself to open her legs ever so slightly, allowing the reed to drop from between them as she trembled. She then squeezed them back together, shifting her gaze back to his. The Warrior did not like where this was going. The tone of his voice, the expression in his eyes, the words that he said... They were making her sick to her stomach as she pieced it all together. 

"N… No... I... Not anything... Not... Not that… You can't be saying... _th… at.._ ." 

Oh how his smile widened on his pale lips, bearing a sliver of white teeth between them. His body _throbbed_ from the terrified shudder in her voice. Patience was wearing thin as images flashed through his mind in a single moment. Battered bleeding flesh, bruised limbs, her core weeping as her body betrayed her mind, screeching and begging for him to stop. Many would bore him at this point, but this was the vaunted Hero of the Savages and breaking her would make for a never ending delicious treat. 

The tilted hand shifted to better cup her chin as he pressed his thumb and pointer on the opposite sides of the jaw and lifted her face an ilm or so higher. Zenos’ head tilted and he leaned in closer until his lips were but a hair's breadth away from hers. He made sure to exhale out of his parted lips so that she could feel the tickle of its warmth against her face and know the calmness he held before her quivering form. 

The Warrior flinched when she felt the heat of his breath against her face, squeezing her eyes shut for a brief moment before opening them with her gaze well averted from his, brows still furrowed in discomfort. 

"Will you surrender and give me what I desire?" he asked in a low whisper, the sound so faint that if anyone was in the room only she would have heard him, "Or will I be forced to take it from you? The choice is yours…" 

She did not want pain. She'd never experienced pain like what he'd given her a taste of earlier. Regardless, pain was something she was familiar with, even if he dished it out in ways she was unaccustomed to. Humiliation of _that_ flavour, however, was not. And yet, the option was tempting. Let him do what he wants and you can avoid agony. Let him do what he wants and then perhaps you can leave alive and return to your life. You could hide what happened and go on... perhaps. _Assuming the mental scarring doesn’t hold you back._

But she couldn't. The idea of it, the idea that she'd even considered it, made her sick. Her stomach twisted in uncomfortable anxious knots. She'd felt unsafe around him before, but somehow with this on his mind, she felt even more so. 

No. 

_No!_

"I... Anything but that... please... I... I'll..." 

She let her eyes squeeze shut, words barely above a whisper. 

"Anything..." 

To be denied yet again was not unsettling to Zenos. Her compliance would have made things essentially easier on her, but something in her refusal still delighted him. His thumb moved up her cheek to rub it along her soft, yet wet skin. It was to ignite her anxiety further and send her mind spiraling in fear. 

His grip tightened and he leaned in further until their petals just barely brushed on the most plump edges, his breath slowly exhaling through his mouth and onto her face. To see her lips quiver was one thing, but to feel them directly in her panicked state sent joyful shockwaves up his spine. 

"But you have nothing left to give," he whispered, each word spoken like dark velvet over her face. Instantly he released her chin and pulled himself to standing, again eyes watching her panicked form from above. 

She felt her quiver turn into a tremble as he inched closer, a whimper seeping through her lips inadvertently when his brushed against hers. Her face wrung together in even further discomfort when he spoke, and she felt each syllable punctuated by the breath upon her skin. When he eased away, she exhaled, the tension in her face easing only ever so slightly, but her eyes remained firmly screwed shut, brows arched. 

Thick calloused fingers worked at the attachments to his codpiece, his breath deepening unintentionally as he released some of the pressure. He had been swollen for some time, to the point he was almost aching. Like the rest of his armor he tossed it aside and pulled his erection to full display, holding it ilms from her face. Blood had swollen into it, the head was a deep red and the veins could be seen through tightened flesh. It was also not without a deep musk scent mixed with the sweat of being trapped in his gear. It may have been more potent because of that. 

When she heard it, she knew. The sound was all too familiar to her, and it sent shudders jolting along the length of her spine. The musk that filled the room only served to confirm her suspicions, and another meek noise slipped from her lips as she turned her head into her shoulder, as if to bury her face there. 

"The choice is to open your mouth and extend your tongue over your bottom lip, or be reprimanded for your denial by me claiming the back of your throat." Zenos voice turned cold as his lips turned into a slight, yet still intimidating frown. He would make good on his threat if needed, and though his face did not allude to it, he would be happy to. 

The Warrior’s emotions were a mess, stomach knotted so tightly in over itself that it felt like it was tearing its way out of her. If her bindings allowed it, she would have shrunk in on herself, but in this position all she could do was rock back on her knees slightly to arch in over her stomach, though it provided little comfort. 

The shift in his voice nearly tore a sob from her lips, her grip on her bindings tightening. 

"Please..." Her voice was but a breath now, so silent she wasn't even sure herself if she was speaking them. "Please no..." 

"Tsk tsk," his tongue snapped against the roof of his mouth. His head shook back and forth in a very steady pace if only to draw out his mocking disappointment. 

"We are far beyond the point of begging. I would say scream, but even that I plan on taking from you." 

Before she could sputter out any more he released his thickness and snagged both her nose and slid his digit between her teeth, hooking his digit over them to pry her mouth open. Oh how her stomach _roiled_ , threatening to spill its contents from the mere fear and disgust she felt alone. 

Zenos gave her a moment to think that she could fight him, letting her ‘feel’ his hand strain against her. But he passed her another knowing smirk and his hand steadied to yank it down to its absolute limit. Letting out a cry she pulled backwards, or tried to, the finger that she attempted to bite down upon keeping her jaw, and by extension her head, locked firmly in place. 

Guiding his cock without the usage of his hands was a bit of a dance, an art he’d practiced before. With a tug of his muscles he was able to have it bounce against her lips, its heavy head brushing over the top quivering petal. 

Letting out a wail of displeasure when she felt the heat of his cockhead slipping over her lips and onto her tongue, she tensed her entire jaw, biting down with even more strength. Gods he was strong... stronger than he'd let on moments ago. Her jaw was snapped wide open, and no amount of pushing against his finger allowed her any movement. The muscles began to ache terribly, and where he pinched her nose it had begun to sting, though she was grateful that this at least somewhat alleviated the overwhelming scent of his musk. 

He descended slowly past her teeth and onto her tongue, allowing her a moment to linger on the taste of him in her mouth. His smile wided until his teeth were exposed, and then his hips drove forward. 

He was unkind to her as he buried every ilm inside of her mouth and throat, not caring about the pain of having her gag reflex basically smashed through. The hand released her nose and instead threaded through the hair on the top of her head to hold it steady as he lingered in her throat. 

"A fine tightness. Certainly telling of an unpracticed mouth. But this moist hole will have its uses, so I would relish the sensation as I promise you will taste my cock many times." 

His cock hadn't even reached the back of her throat when she retched the first time, and then gagged and heaved and choked near unceasingly. Her entire body tensed and pulled, pushing against both his hold and her bindings, as if that would avail her. She wanted to scream, but instead only a cacophony of gurgling noises, accompanied by her chest visually convulsing in over itself, slipped forth from her throat as his hand twisted into her hair and held her lips right up against his pelvis. Through it all she could hear him speaking to her, but she could barely make him out over the vile sounds- at least that's what she thought- coming from her throat and the discomfort twisting within her belly. 

The tears she had tried so hard to hide earlier were running readily down her face, and drool had begun to bubble around their joining, her attention alerted to this fact when she felt wetness spotting along her front. 

Her struggle was delicious. The way that she tried to snap her jaw closed on his fingers, her insides revolting against his assault, and the look of absolute suffering on her face. He’d inscribe this look into his memory: the Warrior of Light’s head impaled to the base on his cock. She was trying so _desperately_ to free herself somehow even though he’d taken every means to restrain her escape. Everything from their battle to this locked room, to even his choice of binding her had been a carefully laid plan and she danced into it like prey following food into the trap. 

Gods she wanted it to end already, she was practically begging him in her mind to cum. Even though it felt like an eternity to her, she knew it had realistically been only a few minutes with his cock buried in her throat. 

Zenos shifted his hips once, twice, three times into the depths of her throat. He wanted to watch her face contort from her disgust and the moments the lack of air began to affect her. The wire restraints would help alleviate her falling forward, allowing him enough time to continue even if she had blacked out. But her noises would not be nearly as delightful to his ears. 

It didn't take long for her lungs to start burning, causing her to tug against her bonds, against his pull on her in a desperate bid for oxygen. Slowly but surely the contortion of her face began to fade away as darkness began to spot at her vision. Her fight against his hold weakened, growing quieter even as she continued to heave. 

His cock retreated and he pulled straight from her throat and her mouth. He released her jaw and instead stroked his saliva covered thickness, exhaling in the way he twitched in his own large hands. To only remind her of her place he placed the soaked cock onto her face, letting it rub against her cheeks and up the side of her nose. 

Within seconds her senses came back to her all at once and she hungrily gulped down several lungfuls of air, wincing when she felt his cock slide up against her skin. Disgust contorted her face once more as she felt the slickness of her saliva against her cheek, the scent of both her spit and his musk mingling unpleasantly in the air around them. 

"I must say, you are resilient to take it all in one gulp," he taunted, grinning delightfully down at her. "I am curious though. The beating in the main hall, your punishment here, or my cock plugging up your throat- what is more agonizing?" 

He tapped the front of her face with his thickness and let out a delightful hum. 

"Think quickly now." 

Gods did he have to taunt her so? She was still panting, each breath now punctuated by soft whines. When he questioned her she felt new sickness rise in her chest. What would he do with this answer? She choked back a sob. Physically the beating was the worst she'd taken, but emotionally nothing could compare to what was happening right now. She suspected that whatever she said was the worst she'd get plenty more of... Or perhaps it was the other way... perhaps he'd taunt her and say she must prefer _this_ to that then, and so torture her with more of it. 

Did it even matter? Perhaps he'd do them all in equal quantity anyway. 

She swallowed, blinking away the tears from her bleary eyes even as she still winced, trying to pull away from his cock on her face. 

"T… the... the..." 

For several seconds she merely babbled and choked out the same word, her head spinning wildly as she tried to decide which course of action would save her the most suffering. 

Ultimately she didn't know, and she was terribly afraid of what would happen if she didn't answer fast enough. 

"...-beating..." she finally choked out, and swiftly began to sob uncontrollably, the conflict of her indecision written across her face. 

What a fun game: playing with a person’s terrified mind. The way that they rolled over their choices and balanced out the potential consequences because by this point that is all that was left: consequences. Zenos extended his clean hand and slipped it beneath her sobbing face. Short but still present nails scratched at the underside of her chin from neck all the way to the tip of her jaw. And much like how his scritches were similar to a prize given to a pet, his pale lips pulled into a little proud smile. 

" _Good girl_ ," he purred loud enough for her to hear, the whisper matched the pleased look on his face. 

He retreated his hand as well as his sopping wet cock from her face, then knelt his tall body before her to try to meet her eye level again. To keep her from looking away he slipped the side of his hand beneath her chin and lifted it to meet her gaze. That little happy look was still there, but his icy eyes pierced into hers. 

"I can be merciful if you can be compliant," Zenos hummed as he dragged his thumb along the crease of her chin to her bottom lip. The way they trembled in her panicked state only stoked the fire in his belly. 

"Punishing you has left an unbearable ache in my cock that I do not plan to vent on my lonesome. I can only assume you’d much rather me make usage of this babbling hole…" His hand adjusted to better cup her chin before sliding the thick thumb into her mouth and slid it to the side to pull at her cheek. "...then potentially drive myself inside you and beat against your womb." 

Her breath came out short and stuttered with whimpers punctuating each at the end. Her sobs were strong enough now to rack her body with shudders. Her hands dropped from where they tightened around her bindings in defeat when he spoke. Another wretched sob tore forth from her throat when his hand plucked her chin and he spoke, each word driving home the reality of her situation, mounting upon the agony that twisted in her gut. 

That happy proud smile spun to something more sadistic, more hungry to see her suffer. "Open your mouth or spread your legs. That is all you have left to offer me to spare you from further agony." 

He spoke true - the idea of him speared within her in any other way not only made her sick but filled her with dread and horror, and when his expression grew dark nausea roiled within her. Her mouth was the lesser of two evils, at least in her perspective, and with another sob she screwed her eyes shut, opening her mouth feebly. 

What a beautiful expression. He released some of the tension on the inside of her cheek as she unwillingly offered her mouth to him. She could not see the wide grin he presented to her, but he hoped she could feel it in her soul. 

"Once so noble and unyielding- and now you just look downright _pathetic_ ." The final word echoed the laughter that was deeper and lower than his statement before it. 

Instead of taking advantage of her open mouth he released her head and stepped away. 

"Hold that face, let your tongue hang over your lower teeth." He approached the metal pole with the initial controls. Pressing the red button he gifted her more slack in her restraints and allowed her arms to hang instead of stretching wide. When finished he returned to her front, stroking his erection while watching her face. 

With her mouth open any whimper would have come out as a sob, and so she tensed, attempting to breath in a slow and measured way and instead only managing to choke out strained pants, breath catching upon the saliva at the back of her mouth. When he spoke her breath shuddered out, hot tears spilling down her face, prompted by the squeezing of her eyes and the arching of her brow. 

Squeezing her hands into fists so tightly that her hands quivered, The Warrior stuck her tongue out, face knitting together in not just agony but an expression which belied just how unpleasant the situation was for her. 

Again his head slipped into her mouth and he let the thickness just hang there and allow her a moment to taste his flavor. Zenos placed his hand on the top of her hair but it was not firm. Instead he combed his fingers through it, stroking the top of it with a gentle pet. His hips were also not as forceful as he slid deeper into her mouth until her lips stopped at his hand gripped around his cock. He knew from before where her limitations were and this time halted himself from diving any further and causing her excess pain. Unlike before he also allowed her to hear his pleasure as his breathing became audible through his nose with every long and paced stroke in and out of her mouth. 

The relief upon her tense limbs garnered a sigh from her lips, muscles trembling in exertion as she sank slightly upon her legs, but her relief was not long felt, face screwing up even more when his cock slipped between her lips, and screwing up yet further when he nigh pressed at the back of her throat. 

"Breathe through your nose," he instructed but it was less an order and more like advice, "twist your tongue round the bottom- ignore any saliva over your lips, it is a lovely sight." 

Her toes curled in disgust, and with her fists still trembling as her nails dug into her palms, she tried to follow his instructions, inhaling slowly through her nose and rolling her tongue along the base of his cock, nearly gagging from her distaste of the situation alone. This was too much. At least before she could zone out, let him do the work, but this way she was forced to feel. To smell. To taste. She could feel him practically throbbing in her mouth, every ilm incredibly hot and swollen. Whenever she inhaled nothing but his scent filled her lungs, and nothing but his taste and the salt of precum was present upon her tongue. He was far too close to her gag reflex for comfort, and afraid that she'd heave violently she squeezed her fists even tighter, each inhale short and sharp. 

Zenos was certainly not deep enough to enjoy her piehole to its fullest extent. There was still flesh at the base of his cock that was not touched by his hand, and the remnants of her previous saliva mixed with the cool air was not the sensation he wished for. 

But patience was needed, even in these instances. Take away her air too often and she’d become nothing but a doll to fuck. He’d had too many of those in his time, and they were _boring_ . Her twisted face wet with tears, eyes wincing just to vent all that shame and disgust in her core- this is what he wanted. This is what made him throb in her mouth to the point it felt almost painful. 

He wanted to cum in her mouth. He wanted to see her eyes roll back when he filled her stomach with his seed. 

A little impatience took over him as he removed his hand and settled both hands on the top of her head. Again he did not grip her hair painfully but instead moved them to opposite sides so he can hold it steady. 

"Hold your breath… now swallow." 

It was the only warning he would give her. 

Panic reared up within her, eyes snapping open panicked and fearful when he told her to swallow, hands shooting forward and straining against their bindings. 

The head passed her gag reflex, but he made it quick and forceful so her body was given no time to trigger her stomach from revolting. Once past he tilted her head upward to better ease himself down into the depths of his throat. His cock was harder before as his imagination went wild, swollen and pulsing inside of her. 

Again he forced her nose and lips to hit his very base and held himself for only a couple seconds before he withdrew. Zenos’ hips pulled back and let the head drag against those inner walls until he reached the beginning of her throat, then descended again. His hips _shuddered_ , as did his breath when he realized how sensitive he had become waiting so long. 

She tried, fruitlessly, to scream when he pushed his length past her mouth, and tried even more when he sank into her entirely, hear head pushing against his hold uselessly. Her first gag was weak, but every time he shifted within her throat, cockhead trailing visibly along the outside of her neck, she gagged silently. The only indicator of her struggle was the contortion of her face and the quietened wet sounds of her body revolting. 

"What a throat… so tight," he just about moaned over her as he withdrew again, and then slid back down. He repeated this over and over again as he steadied his pace at first before it picked up, becoming quicker and wilder than before. The entire time he stared down at her face, mouth open for breathing air. His eyes had become windows into his mind as he watched her like a delicious meal he wanted to devour. 

With him embedded this far within her mouth it was all she could do to let her body react, swallowing reflexively and hugging over his length even as she heaved and gagged. The Warrior’s entire front was now covered in drool, and as he continued her eyes rolled upwards, tears welling up and spilling anew. Disgust burned through her veins, and in response she pulled harder against his hold, against her bindings, even though she knew it would avail her naught. 

The struggle of her head and her body attempting to fight back against the invasion rippled delightfully up and down his cock. Pleasure signals shot from the base and flooded his bloodstream with joyful hormones. And again he was reminded that this was the _Warrior of Light_ , the Hero of the Savages, and she was _gagging on his cock_ . And he’d stuff her suffering form until it overflowed. 

Zenos’ hands locked her head into place regardless of how much her lower torso struggled. She should have had the advantage given it was her head and she had things to tug on to upset his balance, but her thrashing was nothing against his tense and firm his arms. Meanwhile his cock rocked wildly, violently into the deepest portions of her throat. He'd pull up and down a few ilms as he savored the twitching walls, her quivering tongue, and even the bite of her teeth around his flesh. 

"Now swallow," he commanded again. 

One hand moved to the back of her neck and steadied her before he sheathed himself completely, crushing her face against the base of his pelvis. It pulsed strongly as he orgasmed, sending stream after stream directly into her stomach. 

He didn't give her much choice. A gurgle of a complaint left her throat as he buried himself within her entirely, a second hurt noise escaping through her nose when he yanked her up against his pelvis. 

She didn't want to. Gods knew she didn't, in fact the idea of it revolted her, but with his cock travelling so far down her throat she wasn't afforded a choice. Her body instinctively swallowed, and the idea that he could've thought she was doing it by her own volition sent even more disgust burning within her, her face twisting in both disgust and displeasure. 

Zenos remained there until he felt every little bit drain from him. Sometimes he’d shift his hips, but it was more a reactionary shudder than something intentional. Once finished he took his time pulling his softening cock from her throat, allowing a bit of leftover seed from the head to gather on her tongue before finally freeing her mouth. She let herself fall limp in her bindings as he pulled out, closing her mouth to quickly swallow the mix of saliva and his lingering essence on her tongue. Her stomach was upset enough from the abuse, from the constant heaving, and she didn't want to risk upsetting it further by tasting his seed on her tongue. 

The sight of her weeping, spit drooling down her front, so much redness in her face from both her tears and his general torture of her head- it was delightful. His fingers brushed over her head again in a gentle petting motion and he lifted her chin to face him with the other hand. 

"Good girl," he hummed again with that proud expression. 

So tired was The Warrior that she didn't even respond when lifted her gaze to his and pet her. His words, however, sent a twinge of humiliation running through her chest. It was too much to be cooed at much like a domesticated pet, but all the same she didn't have the energy left to respond. Any other time and she likely would have tried to deck him, or at least hiss. 

He could go again. It would be easy to plug her throat a second, maybe a third time until she was nothing more than a mess. But he had offered her mercy, albeit from the worst he could offer. "Would you like to be freed from your bonds?" 

Her body ached, every ilm of her legs and her arms screamed for relief, but his offer to free her bonds didn't garner a response. Instead she let her body sink in her bindings and in his grasp, eyes fluttering closed with her brows still arched. It didn't matter. Nothing mattered. Even as her muscles trembled in exhaustion from being held upright for so long, it didn't matter. 

She inhaled slowly, gazing back up at him and almost recoiling at his expression, before eventually nodding once. 

Zenos withdrew his semi-hard cock into his pants again and redid the buttons to hide it from her sight. The entire time he kept his eyes on her as he took in that utterly destroyed appearance; like prey caught in a trap and submitted to their fate. It was beautiful to see she’d finally hit ‘acceptance’, but only hoped, nay, knew she’d go through the cycle again after a good rest. 

The smile on his face vanished and his neutral expression reappeared. He was measured in his movements as he knelt before her, almost like one would to not startle a small animal. The first action was to take the weight off of her neck and as he pulled his bare chest to her and settled the side of her face against a pectoral to balance her. Beneath her ear was a steady, deep heart beat, as well as his uniform inhales and exhales. 

Something about being able to hear his heartbeat sent a startle of fear through her. To hear how calm he was, how mortal he was, even after all of... _that_ . 

One broad arm wrapped around her partially nude form, yet was careful to keep it high and not agitate the wounds he’d left on her back. With both hands he undid the first cuff and granted her arm release. It took her a lot of willpower not to let her arm drop when he released it from its restraint. Instead she slowly let it sink to her side as she exhaled shakily, unwittingly leaning into the comfort of his touch and support of his hold as she began to shiver. 

His arms swapped, but used the curve of one to help support her from toppling over as he undid the second. The sensation of his arm against her bare back was unpleasantly hot, and had she any more energy she likely would have tried to avoid it, instead just heaving in a breath as she tried to halt the tears rolling down her face. 

With both wrists free he helped keep her torso upright and turned her body so that he may scoop the back of her thighs and lift her from the cold floor. The weight of her form did not register with Zenos as he pulled himself to full height and began his walk to the only door in the room. 

When he stood, The Warrior’s hands shifted instinctively to keep herself from falling, one slipping to rest upon his chest and the other clinging to his upper arm feebly. Beneath the skin she could feel his muscles, pulled taut under her weight. As if she didn't already feel sick enough... She didn't need the reminder of just how easily he could overpower her, and her fingers quivered as she weighed up letting go or keeping her fingers grasped onto him. 

He flashed her a single look as he heard her hitched breath. It took a little balancing while still walking to adjust her from the bridal carry, but her limp body made it easier given she’d not try to fall from his grip. Zenos bounced her body in his arms to shift one hand from her legs to her bottom, and then leaned her fully against his chest before he removed the hand on her back to balance her weight in his cupped arms. This removed any tension on the wounds he had caused on her bare back while he balanced her in both hands and arms to hold her in a seated position. 

He paused as he stopped at the door. 

"Open," he stated loud enough to be heard across the metal doors, but not barking it out like many other lords would. He had no need for such volume when the mere sound of his voice did enough to command his armies. They waited no time in deactivating the locks, and both doors slid open before him. Each guard moved their hands to their chest in full salute, but he didn’t pass them a single glance as he walked through. 

"It will be a bit of a walk, but the sleeping quarters will be more suited for you than a cage," Zenos explained, his tone logical but still almost passive. His eyes were locked fully on their path as he carried her down the hall. "There will be a private bath if you wish to wash, and I will have food and clothing sent to you. I advise eating before rest, as sleeping on an empty stomach will result in a degrade of your muscles from unintentional fasting." 

They came on another set of guards who were quick to salute their lord. One of them pressed a button to summon the lift for the two of them. Without turning to them he gave them simple, direct commands: "Have the attendants up in the northern quarters. Simple attire. A protein rich meal and vegetables. Light spices to not irritate the stomach." 

Each guard passed a confused glance to one another before one burst their way down the hall. 

The Warrior didn't think she could eat. She appreciated that she was going to be given the chance to, and the chance to wash too, but the truth was she felt completely exhausted, and her appetite was practically non-existent, her stomach stuck in a constant state of nausea. Maybe she'd try at least, it'd give her the chance to replenish her strength, though she wasn't sure she wanted to. 

She didn't understand why he was going to provide her with these... Luxuries, she supposed. Clothes, food, a bath.. she certainly thought he would not think of her befitting them, but even if she found herself unable to use them she was grateful to have them nonetheless. 

The walk was long as he had mentioned. Up lifts, down winding halls, and through a few locked doors on the way which were opened by even more Imperial military. The Legatus was dead quiet the entire walk, his entire focus was getting the Warrior of Light to the intended location. Eventually they reached a door unmarked like most of the rest. To help him with the handle he shifted more of her weight onto one of his arms and allowed a free hand to open the door. 

It wasn’t spacious or elegant, and had a feel close to an inn room, especially considering its similar size. The room was barren of any decorations except one Garlean flag on the wall. The bed was large enough to hold two people, fitted with white and crimson red sheets. Beside that was a table with a water pitcher and cups all made with wood upon it, but no drawers attached below. There was a doorway to a small side bathroom with a simple tub and a fountain to run fresh water. There were no mirrors and no windows to be seen and the only light was an electrical one just above their heads. 

He moved directly to the bed and with an odd gentleness put her down. The sheets were rich cottons which were good for the cold nights of Gyr Abania. "Food and clothing should be here shortly," was all he offered before pulling himself away to return to the door. He paused in the doorway, hand on the side as he stared into the hall. 

Zenos turned his gaze back to her, and once again that predatory smile returned to his face. "I look forward to tomorrow's entertainment," he offered with a low velvet voice, then left and locked the door behind him. 

The Warrior didn't bother to turn or acknowledge him when he left her, waiting a few moments before she turned to gaze at the bathroom. Her muscles were screaming at her... She felt... filthy... So filthy... covered in sweat and drool, and... and... 

And she felt dirty in a way that no bath would clean, no matter how much she scrubbed. 

Nausea boiled up in her throat again, this time bile burning at the base of her esophagus. She swallowed down, plucking her soiled nightgown off her shoulders and pushing it from the bed to the floor, before crawling beneath the blanket in the bed and curling up as she trembled, swiftly falling into a dreamless sleep. If food arrived mayhap she'd take a bite, but the chances of her waking before the next day seemed highly unlikely. 


	5. Run

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Had some foolish guard left her cage open? Was there any chance of escape? No. Even within the maze, feet slamming against the floor as she fled, there was no escape. He'd savor her panic.
>
>> Then his footfalls stopped. There was silence yet again in the empty halls, the only sound being her own deep panting breathing. He'd forsaken his boots and greaves quietly and stood with his bare feet on the cold stone floor. It would be more difficult with his boots to move with the speed and silence than he wanted. Zenos inhaled deeply, held the smell of her terror in his nose, and then moved at lightning speed.
>> 
>> It only took him a moment to come behind her. That presence of power being obvious as he towered over her. He smiled with delicious delight once more as he leaned forward, hair brushing against her shoulders
>> 
>> _"Run."_

The door opened three times during her sleep. The first was to drop off a simple linen galabeya at the foot of the bed, the second time they left a tray of what looked like a thick meat stew with some bread for her to eat, and the third was late in the night under the assumption she'd still be asleep. As per instructions a soft, but sturdy leather collar with one metal ring on the front was placed around the Warrior's neck and the strap locked in place. They gathered the cold food and left the room. 

The next morning the attendants returned to the room. The pitcher was refilled with colder water and a new plate of colder food: a thick hummus, some pita bread with sesame on the top, and a small plate of cheeses. 

But something odd had happened after the attendant left. Though the handle was locked, the door was a hairsbreadth ajar. 

\---- 

When she awoke it would have been a lie to say she felt well rested. Her head ached from dehydration and her stomach burned with both hunger and bile. She honestly felt like she was going to throw up. 

Crust had formed on her face where her tears had dried up, and as she blinked her eyes open she rubbed the blanket over her face, clearing it from debris before laying still for a few moments, blinking in a daze as she recalled the events from before. 

It was real. _It wasn't a nightmare._

If only she could just go back to sleep, but there were far too many discomforts growing in her body for her to do that. The Warrior leant up slightly, gazing around the room. 

The first thing that caught her eyes was the food, her stomach growling as if to bring attention to just how hungry she was. She knew not the time but gingerly slipped from the bed, tugging the thick blankets with her as she moved to pluck at the food. It was blissful in her mouth, and after savouring the first few mouthfuls she scarfed down the rest like a starving woman, consuming almost the entirety of the water in the pitcher along with it 

Next her eyes settled on the clothes, before shifting back to the bath pondering how long she had before her captor came for her. She didn't want to be clean for him but the filth she felt stuck to her skin was incredibly unpleasant, a quick rinse couldn't go astray... 

She pondered her decision when her gaze flicked over to the door, and she froze, heart leaping into her chest. What foolish guard had left her door ajar? 

She scrambled to pull the cloth over her head, wishing for a brief moment that she could at least have been given a change of smallclothes, when the thread snagged at something... on her neck. 

Her fingers slipped to her throat, her brows rising in surprise when their tips met leather and metal. A... collar? She cursed internally, fingers fussing hurriedly to untangle the snag before she edged towards the door. She could deal with the collar later, and as she moved towards the door her hand idly searched the back of it, hoping that it was easily removable but coming up empty handed. 

Breathing intentionally slowly, she wrapped her fingers around the edge of the door, easing it open and peering out around the edges. There were no guards at her door, and with her confidence slightly spurred onwards, she leaned out, looking around its immediate surroundings. 

And then she froze. She needed a weapon. She creeped back indoors and looked around, nose wrinkling when her eyes settled upon the plate of food and wooden water pitcher. It'd have to do. At least in a pinch she could use it as some sort of bludgeoning weapon, or lob it at someone as a distraction. 

Plucking the pitcher from the floor and cradling it in one arm much like a child, she eased out of the door again, carefully shutting it behind her so that if someone walked past later her absence would be less noticeable. 

Gods it was bloody frigid out here, and her skin readily pebbled, knuckles growing white and nose growing pink in the cold. What she wouldn't give for her own warmer attire... and a proper weapon. 

Hopping quietly from foot to foot to warm herself up, she turned left, beginning to make her way slowly away from her cell, listening carefully for any kind of noise that'd indicate she was in danger of being found. She was thankful the weather was not windy or rainy today. That would help her hear the distant sounds of the settlement from where she was, but she cursed her lack of knowledge about her surroundings. 

Letting out a soft sigh, she conjured up the image of her map in her mind, trying to figure out where she had to go from where she was. Left seemed to be the correct choice, but she'd have to explore a little to find her true path, and she grimaced before continuing to tread lightly down the path. 

The halls were incredibly quiet as she wandered through them. Doors that she passed on either side were closed, and trying any handle she'd find them locked. Between each door were electric lights that hummed, but they appeared dimmer than they had been previously during her journey with Zenos. The lack of light instead invited shadowy patches between each one as they did not reflect well against the stone walls and matte tiled floors. 

First there was a t-shaped fork, the banner of the Garlean Empire hung from the wall. Memory served her well as it had been the marker for him to turn right. That meant that left was the correct choice. At the end of that hall she found a four-way intersection, the floor marked with a tile pattern similar to the original Ala Mhigan royal crest. He had walked straight through this hall previously. 

The lengths of the halls were growing significantly shorter until passing doors between intersections became more sparse, and through the spotting light she could see more forks or intersections. There seemed to be no logic in the building structure with a dizzying amount of turns at the end of her vision regardless of where she looked. On top of that there was also not a single soul in sight: not a guard, not an attendant, no one. The only footsteps she could hear were her own bare feet. 

Again she found a t-shaped fork with another banner hung on the wall. This had been the first turn Zenos had taken to enter the space after crossing through a doorway guarded by patrol. It seemed like an escape route, but she only found the large metal door closed with no sign of controls or handles on this end. It was very similar to the weighted door of the interrogation chamber which restricted anyone of any might the ability to escape. 

After minutes of silence, a new sound joined her in the halls: foot falls. They echoed along the stone walls that seemed to be built for this sort of acoustics. But these weren't rushing guard feet, or even pitter-patters of cloth soles. They were heavy, slow, and _booming_ . From her position it was difficult to find the source of it, but with each step the noise of boots grew louder. 

Panic reared up in her chest like an untamed animal, blood running cold. 

_Oh no._

She recognised that sound anywhere. What would he do when he found her cell empty? Or perhaps he already had, perhaps this was his way of letting her know. Letting her know he was coming to find her. The walk was too self assured, too _calm_ . Either he didn't know yet, or he knew, and knew she couldn't escape. 

Her panic twisted in her stomach, turning into sickness. Perhaps there was somewhere she could hide? So far she'd had no luck. She swivelled on the pads of her feet wildly as she tried to identify the source of the sound - which hall it came from, which hall she should run down. She was thankful for her bare feet. Hopping onto her toes she dashed right, away from the door where he would find her cornered if she stayed. 

Some halls came to a swift stop and lacked any turns. Some went straight for what seemed like forever. Dim lights gave off a low hum as she rushed by them one by one. The dead end halls were always the darkest. More of the same. More doors, all of them locked fast. More turns, all leading down the same dull hallways with no windows. This was some self contained _hell_ . Her head was beginning to spin from the sheer panic, as well as the maddening sound of his footsteps approaching. Shivering, she stepped up against a wall, pressing her back to it and breathing slowly in an attempt to make out where he was coming from. Perhaps, if she was lucky, she could just keep walking, keep avoiding him... assuming he was in fact coming from behind her. 

Taking a slow, shaky breath, she stopped running, and began pacing; steps twice the speed of his to try and make up for his tall stature and speedier pace. This was her only choice. She had no stamina to continue running, and with calmer steps she steadied her breathing, making her quieter. If perhaps he did not find her, he'd give up. It seemed unlikely but... it was better than having to deal with whatever awaited her if she yielded. 

Footfalls became louder regardless of where she turned. The metal clink of greaves added to the growing noise of each steady step. They remained perfectly constant, the tempo unchanging as they seemed to constantly approach her. 

No rush was needed. There was no escape for her. No place to hide, no place to flee. 

At her final turn she met with Zenos. He strolled towards her, directly in the middle of her path. He was without a shirt, those golden silky locks draped over bare shoulders and firm muscles. The pants he wore were more casual and beaded belts that appeared more of Gyr Abanian style. He still wore his heavy battle boots, if only to accent the sound of his stride. 

He said nothing as he met her eyes. Instead his calm face pulled his lips into a subtle, but excited smile: the face of the hunter who had found his prey. 

Her lips parted to scream, but nothing came out, eyes widening and brows arching in panic instead. For the briefest of moments she stood frozen, and then she turned. Muscles tightened as adrenaline surged through her veins, and bolted back the way she came. There was nowhere to run, but running was all she knew, having all but forgetting the makeshift weapon she'd brought along. 

What a _look_ . A doe at the end of a gun making any attempt to save themselves. And given his choice of prey, he savored the look even more. 

_"Come now,"_ his voice echoed in the halls behind her as his boots resonated with it. It sounded as if it was growing more distant as she fled. _"You are aware you'll run out of breath like that. It would be disappointing to have your legs crumble beneath you."_ He was so delightfully excited and it was obvious in every dictated word. 

Yet again another cry nearly left her lips. Her lungs were so occupied with the effort of running and running and running that they couldn't spare even an onze of air to let out a panicked wail. 

_"I will catch up. But please, don't stop on my account. After all. Your submission now would be_ **_boring_ ** _."_

Zenos' entire body felt firm and tight with the thrill of the hunt. He loved her terror, he reveled in her fear and her desperate attempt to escape. Nerves were alive and filled with warmth as he walked after her. The tempo of each step remained steady even though he wanted to come after her and end this charade. 

The bounce of the wooden jug against her chest reminded her of her weapon, and her fist tightened around the handle as she stilled briefly. She was going to be cornered at some point. This would be her last and likely only effort. Her aim wasn't great, she'd never particularly practised lugging things at a distance, but she had to try. Regardless, her hope was fading rapidly. He'd caught her arm mid swing last time, what was the chance that she'd manage to even come close to hitting him from afar? 

Then his footfalls stopped. There was silence yet again in the empty halls, the only sound being her own deep panting breathing. He'd forsaken his boots and greaves quietly and stood with his bare feet on the cold stone floor. It would be more difficult with his boots to move with the speed and silence than he wanted. Zenos inhaled deeply, held the smell of her terror in his nose, and then moved at lightning speed. 

It only took him a moment to come behind her. That presence of power being obvious as he towered over her. He smiled with delicious delight once more as he leaned forward, hair brushing against her shoulders. 

_"Run."_

This time the cry broke free; a bloodcurdling scream making its way up her throat as she bolted again. Panic mounted upon panic when she didn't hear the familiar rhythm of his steps following after her. She kept glancing behind her, checking over and over and over again as her chest began to ache from the sheer panic swelling within it, lungs and throat burning as she continued to stumble forward. 

The Viceroy took another deep breath as she burst away. He swore he could taste it in the air, a flavor would never become boring to him. But there was only so long he could stand at the sidelines- or in this case be a shadow behind her- before could no longer hold back putting his treat to his lips. He'd earned his prize, it was time to claim it. 

He appeared in front of her, the wind bursting forward from behind him from the sheer speed of his imposing frame. Maybe she'd catch a glimpse of his wide stretched grin with teeth bared before he was upon her. The armed hand ended up in his grip and a finger slid into the metal loop of her collar. The only hope she had left crumbled when his fingers wrapped around her wrist, fear polluting her lips as though she were in hysterics. 

In a fluid, swift motion, he pulled himself behind and bent her arm to a rather uncomfortable position. He pinned it firmly to her back while he spun the collar to the opposite side of her neck. She let out a panicked wail, and then a hurt one as he twisted her arm behind her back, stretching her fingers to let go of the jug when it became too painful to maintain her grip on it. 

Both arm and collar were used as leverage to pin her front to the wall, Zenos pressing his entire weight to sandwich her front completely flat. As her heart screamed in her chest and her stomach twisted uncomfortably, she remained still in what she hoped was a sign of surrender. She could not fight, only flee, and she hated how she'd become no better than a harmless doe. 

... She hoped he'd at least consider being nice to her if she didn't fight, though she was fearful enough of the consequences she might face for running. 

His head bent down to slide the tip of his nose through her hair and took a very obvious inhale of her scent. "Divine..." he hummed before pressing her up further to cause pain in her shoulder from the over-stretched position. 

His head leaned forward at her stilled state, lips brushing with a featherlight touch just over the rim of her ear. Every paced breath was warm against the side of her face. Zenos tugged a little harder on the collar wrapped around her neck to pull it into an uncomfortable position which put pressure on her windpipe. He whispered only two words into her ear. " _Good girl_ ." 

The hand released from the collar, but continued to pin her arm painfully against her back. Even if she tried to flail, he wanted to ensure she'd be going nowhere given the restraint and his heavy upper torso pinning her firm. The fingertips of his calloused hands danced their way over the outside of her shoulder and followed the curve of her hips through the somewhat thin fabric. It danced over the outside of her hip before the touch disappeared. He wanted to keep her in suspense as he slipped his fingers in the open slit in his pants and pulled out his erection, but did not allow her to feel him. 

That was until he gripped the bottom of her galabeya and pulled it up to her waistline. The hot throbbing cock slipped between her cheeks and the head danced just at the bottom of her spine. "You may scream all you wish. No one will hear your cries." 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [ **Run** ](https://youtu.be/mw2kKyJu9gY?t=125)

**Author's Note:**

> If you want to scream about FFXIV fanfiction, Zenos, Emet-Selch, and anyone else, come join us at[Emet-Selch's Wholesomely Debauched and Enabling Book Club](https://discord.gg/RHEBesD). We'd love to meet you ♥


End file.
